


Bonds

by Rynfinity



Series: Out of the Mouths of Babes [25]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Human, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Sibling Incest, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:54:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Go change," Thor says, laughing, as Loki sidles up to him.  "Now, before I lose my self-control and make us just late enough to be obvious."</p><p>This is a direct sequel to Changes and will make the most sense read after its predecessors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thor has a plan within a plan.

"I think he'd love that," Sif assures him, grabbing his wrist to pull the ring closer. "It would look great on him, too." She holds up her cupped palm and Thor drops the thick, gleaming band with its cabochon-set emerald into her hand. She tilts the ring this way and that against the light. "So pretty," she says. "Good work."

Thor smiles. He feels- a little embarrassed, and also ridiculously proud of himself. His own soon-to-be-ring, a fraternal twin to the one Sif holds (in white gold set with a much smaller ruby, because it just suits him better), rests off to the side on its black velvet pad. He didn't expect to be affected like this, sentiment or no, but he really can't wait to get the thing on his finger.

_First things first_ , he reminds himself. "You're sure you have a solid plan for the sizing?" Thor wants to get the insides of both bands engraved before he presents the gold one to Loki, which means the ring needs to fit before the engraver can even get started.

The easiest way, sure, would be to drag Loki down here. But Thor really, really wants this part to be a surprise.

Sif laughs. "Will you relax already," she insists, twirling the sizer around her free index finger. "Seriously. I've got it covered.”

~

"We're going _there_ for dinner?!" Loki squints and puts a hand to his forehead. "Did pigs fly," he deadpans as he searches the horizon from their balcony pirate-style. "I don't see any."

"Don't be an ass," Thor chastises, relatively gently. They've never gone to Steve's (mostly former) apartment, not once, and Loki is probably nervous. "He invited us; we're going. Case closed." He looks his brother up and down. "Now put on something legal."

It's Saturday, the first really nice, warm weekend of the new year, and Loki has been prancing around in a pair of- well, they're velvety-soft booty shorts, and Thor can't keep his own hands off them. His brother smirks. "Yes, master."

"Just go change," Thor says, laughing, as Loki sidles up to him. "Now, before I lose my self-control and make us more than late enough to be obvious."

~

He's pleasantly surprised when Loki follows him out into the living room a few minutes later; his brother is looking svelte and fabulous in very, very slim black jeans and a flowing, collared dark green shirt. The glitzed-up engineer-style boots with the gold chains and buckles are the only nod to _the other side of Loki_. Which is fine, considering how much he and his brother both love the things. Love. He would lick them if it wasn’t- well, never mind.

"Good," Loki asks. He looks nervous for real now.

Thor pulls him in for a quick hug. "More than good. You look- perfect,” he adds, pushing Loki back out to arm’s length and studying his brother closely. “Beautiful. Um, handsome," he corrects himself; the two statements are equally true. "Ready?"

"Mm," Loki hums, but he follows it with a big gulping breath. Thor feels a jolt of pity.

"Nothing bad is going to happen," he promises. He _knows_ Steve; it's a safe promise. They’ll be fine, once they get there and settle in. Thor opens the door with a half-bow and a flourish. "After you."

~

"Come in!" Steve greets Thor and Loki at the threshold, upbeat and cheerful and more than a little anxious-looking himself. He holds the door open for them. "Make yourselves at home."

They step inside and take a curious look around as Steve closes the door behind them. The studio apartment is exactly what Thor had pictured – it’s small and a little shabby but somehow still perfectly clean and orderly, with colorful vintage fiestaware dishes in the kitchenette and a neat bookcase taking up the entire wall closest to the entryway. The opposite wall houses a Murphy bed.

The books are beautiful - leather-bound, well-loved American and European history. "I like to read," Steve offers, a little cautious, like it's an apology. “Probably more than I ought to.”

Loki smiles at Steve, a real smile. "Oh," he says, running a careful finger along the spines, "so do I."

Steve smiles back. Thor can actually see some of the strain drain out of his shoulders; he's a hundred times more nervous than Loki, from the looks of it, and that’s saying something. "Whatever you're making smells delicious," Thor says, partly to diffuse more tension and partly because it does. The air is heavy with spices. He takes a long sniff. "Anything we can do to help?"

"Um," Steve says, looking around a little helplessly. "Salad? You want to do the salad?"

"Salad is me," Loki cuts in. "Thor's better at meat."

Thor freezes. Loki’s little bomb of a sentence hangs there in the deafening silence for a moment, but then Steve must shake- everything off. He nods. "Please. The fixings are in the fridge. He smiles at Thor behind Loki's back, and then actually _winks_ , and it’s Thor’s turn to feel infinitely better. "There's not room for all of us in this sad excuse for a workspace anyway. Here," he adds, beckoning over his shoulder to Thor as turns to follow Loki into the tiny kitchen, "come stand by the sink and keep us company."

~

“Now _this_ is my idea of heaven,” Sif proclaims. She sets her backpack down and stretches, rolling her shoulders. “A houseful of good-looking men, all making me dinner. And doing the dishes,” she teases, “right? Please tell me one of you is planning on doing the dishes.”

“Thor is,” Loki and Steve say in unison. All four of them laugh.

“Um, sure why not?” Thor knows it’s only fair. Plus, he really doesn’t mind. If it makes for a better evening for any one of them, he’s all in.

~

They sit close together around Steve’s cozy little table. Loki scoots his chair over and leans companionably against Thor’s side. He’s humming quietly to himself; to Thor, it feels like his brother is purring. “This is really delicious,” Sif tells Steve around a forkful of curry. “I think we should all let you cook more often.”

She takes another bite and catches Thor’s eye. “I can pick up our rings as soon as tomorrow,” she tells Steve as soon as her mouth is mostly empty. “But I know you can’t get out of work. They told me to just have you recheck the sizing.” She waves the sizer; the plastic gauges click together. “Here, try it on.”

Steve does, faux-modeling the correct gauge while the rest of the plastic rings flop every which way. “What size are you,” he asks Thor.

Loki snickers. “That sounds a little personal.” He wrests the sizer away from Thor and starts flipping through the different options. “There,” he says smugly, holding up the 8.5. “I give lie to that old wives’ tale about hands and feet and-.”

“Ohhhhkay,” Thor says loudly. “So, Sif… tell us about those rings.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor talks through a few fears.

"So." He's been stressing about this for days, so much so that he’s finally opted to take a long lunch and stop off at home; this way, he can do his session via skype and actually see the therapist's reactions. And now that they’re connected, he might as well cut straight to the chase. "Do you think there's something _wrong_ with me?"

To his credit, the guy doesn't smile. "That's a pretty broad generalization," he points out. "Do you think you can pinpoint your concern a little more precisely for me?"

Thor shuts his eyes for a tense moment. Doing a session face-to-face, even long-distance like this, is a little more difficult than he'd remembered. "Do you think there's something wrong with me," he repeats, and then clears his throat. "Because I- I'm in a- in an intensely romantic and sexual relationship with my brother?" There. Ugh, but _there_.

The therapist makes a quick note; Thor can see the very top of his pen cap moving, just inside the bottom of the frame. The guy doesn't cringe, though, and nothing whatsoever changes in his calm, serious demeanor. "I don't think much in life is that simple," he starts, then holds up a hand as Thor starts to comment. 

"No, hear me out, please. For what it's worth, incestuous sibling relationships are not all that rare and I don't personally feel they are any more indicative of mental health issues than are other more socially acceptable partnerships." He does smile now, but his face looks- kind, rather than amused. Understanding, instead of incredulous or mocking. "Not that the whole taboo aspect isn’t a draw. But what I find much more telling, in any relationship, is what the client thinks and feels. What _you_ think, in other words." He gazes expectantly into the camera, blinking every now and then.

"Um," Thor stalls. The social worker looks for all the world like a quiet, benevolent Buddha. Except with hair. Thor, for his part, is very, very uncomfortable. He has no idea why.

"Can you share anything about what might be worrying you," his therapist prompts. "That might afford us a less difficult jumping-off point."

Thor looks at his hands. Out the window. At the ceiling. Anywhere but into the tiny lens. "I'm contemplating something irreversible," he says, and sneaks a peek back at the screen. "Not something bad," he hurries to explain as the social worker looks mildly concerned. "Nothing like anything you’re probably thinking. I mean, I don't _want_ it to be something bad." He groans. He sucks at this. "I want to- well, even though we can't make it legal, I want to propose to Loki. And before I do that I- well, I don't want to find out down the road that incest is something I can be cured of."

He doesn't want to unlearn his relationship in group, or self-help it away. If that's even possible, he should not go through with this. "It would destroy my brother - it _could_ , I mean," he corrects himself, because he can't speak for Loki, " - and I want that less than I want to lose him." Finally, after all this time and all this work, he can make that statement with conviction.

The social worker nods. "Well, there are no guarantees in life," he admits, and Thor - as tears spring unbidden - tries hard to brace for it. "But honestly; from my perspective, all the work you've done has strengthened your relationship rather than eroding it." He pauses and looks directly at Thor. The force of his gaze borders on painful. "You're inside it. Does what I just said feel _true_ to you?"

It does, actually. Hot tears spill over as Thor nods. "Yeah," he finally rasps. "It does. I just- I don't want to let him down."

His therapist hums. "The fact that you're even thinking about this... well, you've made really good progress here."

"And?" Thor can't talk right now. If he tries he will bawl.

"And I think you know what you want," the social worker tells him.

"Yeah," Thor chokes out. "I do."

~

"Have you felt this out at all," the guy asks him when he's recovered enough of his composure to answer. "With Loki, I mean."

Thor nods. "Yeah. Along with the part you know about, where I dropped some pretty graceless hints... I've even asked outright it he'd be okay with it." He coughs, then wipes his nose on his hand. "Sorry,” he adds, because that was gross and he knows it. “Loki mostly seems concerned that I'm- that I'm playing him. That I'm not serious." Thor coughs again. Maybe someday his body will stop with all the inner drama. "That's why I need to be cer- as sure as possible," he says instead, because he really doesn't want another round of the _no guarantees_ caveats, "that I can't be cured of loving him."

The therapist smiles gently, all the way up to the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. "I think you're in pretty good shape," he assures Thor, "but in the end it's up to you."

~

He has to splash his face with cold water and lie down for a few minutes, but on his drive back to work Thor feels a million times _lighter_.

~

On his way to pick Loki up at the shelter the following evening, Thor stops at the jewelry store. He hands over the sizing information - 8.5 block-printed on a sticky note, so there's no risk of forgetting or otherwise _getting it wrong_ \- and carefully spreads open his borrowed book of runes.

~

“Keisha can cat-sit!” Loki is so excited he _bounces_ , and any lingering concerns Thor might have had vanish into thin air like so much mist.

Keisha grins broadly from her post behind the battered desk. “It’s no trouble,” she assures Thor as he thanks her. “I’ll get to see my babies again.”

~

Sif and Steve are getting married in a few weeks. While they were originally going to have a civil ceremony right here in town, their plans have grown and changed over time and now their site of choice is- well, it’s just far enough away to count as a “destination wedding” if you squint, Thor supposes. The four of them are collectively planning a long weekend getaway at a – cozy and adorable, from the pictures, and a little more expensive than the happy couple might otherwise have chosen because that part is his and Loki’s gift to the two of them – bed and breakfast. The place is (not unintentionally; both he and Loki want the newlyweds to spend a little time _away_ together) well within comfortable driving distance, but not quite close enough to cram into a day trip.

Meaning he and his brother will have to stay over. And not just one night, but two.

Thor and Loki have never really taken a _vacation_ , not if you don’t count their crazy drive up here. Not even a short little trip like this one will be. It’s easier to manage their lives with routines and structure, as much as the broad concept of either irks his brother, and the idea of leaving it all behind to go do something frivolous always scares them both.

But this isn’t frivolity… this is _being there_ for the most important people in their lives. Well, excepting one another. And the place has awesome breakfasts, from what the website boasts.

Loki loves breakfast.

They’ll be fine once they get there, Thor’s sure. Still, it’s new and nerve-wracking, and it will be a huge relief not to have to worry about the cats (who doubtless would probably be fine alone together, because it’s only a couple of days… but he’s not going to chance it) on top of everything.

And on the last day, if things have gone well and the mood is right, Thor is going to somehow find the nerve to exchange rings with his brother. 

He’s thought it through carefully; he’ll wait until Sif and Steve leave (alone, together) for their mini-honeymoon, meaning he and Loki won’t be stealing any of their thunder. And then rather than waiting and doing it at home – and risking ruining a beloved spot, like the duck pond, if his grand gesture isn’t as well-received as he’s hoping it will be – he’s going to make it happen in a place they need never visit again.

Unless, of course, they want to.

~

That’s getting ahead of himself. Thor forcibly turns his attention back to Keisha. “Still,” he stresses, “it means a lot to us.”

She nods. “Anything for my baby,” she says, gesturing with her head towards Loki. “And the kitties, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past is never far enough away.

“Hey,” he calls from just inside the door. It’s been decent weather all week – he hasn’t even needed a jacket – so it only takes a couple of seconds to kick off his shoes and pad into the living room. “Loki? You home?”

The apartment is largely dark but, as Thor walks into the kitchen, he notices the light over the cooktop is on. He stops on the threshold and looks around. He spots a rinsed-out can of ginger ale on the counter by the sink, water still beaded up around the pop-top. That, and the cats have been fed; there’s a nearly-eaten dish of canned cat food – what Loki calls “wet food,” even though it’s normally not that wet – on the floor, and no one short and fluffy is circling Thor’s ankles or complaining.

His brother’s keys are on the counter, over by the refrigerator. In spite of himself, Thor feels a little stab of fear. “Loki,” he yells again, more loudly. “Are you here?”

He hears a _plunk_ from the living room and then Marci is standing there looking up at him. She mews. 

“What is it, Mar-Mar,” he asks her, much more quietly. “Have you seen daddy?”

If she has, she doesn’t let on.

Thor takes a deep breath. He shouldn’t stand here trying to pretend nothing’s wrong. If something _is_ , and he finds he’s wasted precious minutes fucking around in the kitchen because he’s just too cowardly to face trouble, he- even now, after everything, he simply doesn’t know what he’ll do. He groans. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells Marci. “And if I’m not, don’t wait up for me.”

He looks back at her over his shoulder as he starts off down the hall. She’s standing right where he left her, a dark shape with glowing eyes against an even darker background. Thor can hardly see the twitching tip of her tail.

~

The bedroom is dark, too. “Loki?” Thor can barely force out his brother’s name. The more time he has to think, the more his throat closes. “Baby? Where are you?”

A gust of wind catches the gauzy curtains. Belatedly, Thor realizes the balcony door is open. Their apartment is not in the front of the building. The street their balcony overhangs is not the one he drove down on his way to park the- _oh, fuck_.

He tears through their bedroom and out onto the balcony, catching one of the chaises with his foot and sending it screeching across the floor in his rush to get to the railing.

“Jesus fuck,” his brother yells. Loki sounds startled and angry and a little clogged, like he’s been crying. “What in the-.“

_Oh god oh god_. Thor takes two big steps and drops to his knees. The pain barely registers. Whatever his brother was planning to say is lost, buried in his own hair and the crook of his neck. Thor wraps Loki in a huge hug and clings tightly. He never wants to let go.

“Thor,” Loki huffs after a minute or two. “You’re hurting me.”

_Not okay_ , the voice in Thor’s head supplies, and – want to or not - he makes himself relax his hold immediately. His arms hang limp at his sides as Loki slumps back just enough to put a little distance between them. “Shit, I’m sorry.” And then the tears come. “I was just so-.”

Loki reaches out to touch Thor’s face. “So-? Thor? Did something happen?” He still sounds shocked. Frightened, now, more than angry. Like Thor feels, more or less, at least from the looks of it.

“No,” Thor says. His battered emotions are all rolled up together into a huge tangle, one he can’t even begin to start unraveling. “I guess it didn’t.”

“Ah,” Loki says. His voice is flat and hard. “I get it. You thought I’d hurt myself.”

“I thought,” Thor starts to correct his brother, but it feels wrong. Like lying. Because it _is_ lying. Avoiding the truth isn’t going to make anything better. “Every now and then I- I guess I flash back to- to- you know,” he admits. “I come home and things are a little _off_ and-,” he takes a big breath, “and I panic.” He takes another breath. “Okay, yeah, I was afraid you might have hurt yourself.”

Loki says nothing. In the glow of the streetlight Thor can’t really read the nuances of his brother’s expression; just that Loki’s face is puffy and wet.

“I’m sorry,” Thor offers. “Sorry for scaring you. Sorry for being an ass and panicking.”

His brother shrugs.

Thor sits back on his heels. His knees are starting to _hurt_. “I’m an ass,” he says again. “When I got home and the place was dark, and you didn’t answer… and then the balcony door was open…”

“Right,” Loki says. He gets to his feet with a grunt, rolling up off the floor and wincing as one of his ankles cracks. “What, you thought I’d flung myself off this thing,” he asks, tugging at the balcony railing, “in a fit of drama?”

“Maybe not the drama part,” Thor says. He shudders, glad for once that Loki’s back is turned and his brother cannot see him. “Are you okay?”

“Well, I’m not dead on the sidewalk,” Loki notes. “That should count for something.”

Thor coughs to hide his little choking gulp. “You look like you’ve been crying,” he says softly. “I really do want to be sure you’re okay.”

“Doesn’t that hurt, sitting like that after you plopped down on your knees like a sack of fucking cement,” his brother asks, like Thor hasn’t even spoken. “Get up already.”

“Yeah, it does,” Thor admits. He struggles to his feet. He’s going to pay for this tomorrow. “It’s a nice night, “ he says – random but true – as he joins Loki at the railing. “So,” he tries again, “why were you crying?” He attempts to sidle up to his brother but his knees _ache_ and it turns into more of a lurch somehow.

Loki tolerates Thor’s arm slung around his shoulders, which is always a positive sign. Thor finally feels a little less like his world is going to implode. “I- I don’t know,” his brother tells him. “Everything’s changing.”

_And nothing is_. “Yeah,” Thor admits. “But a lot of it is good, you know?”

“I don’t want to get lost amidst all the changes,” Loki explains. He relaxes for the first time so far tonight, his head resting comfortably against Thor’s shoulder.

_Like that could ever, ever happen_. Thor thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully. Deliberately. “You won’t get lost,” he tells his brother. “Between us,” he continues, reaching out to touch first Loki’s chest and then his own, “we won’t let you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gathers at the venue. Everyone being the four of them.

“Mmm,” Loki hums, sniffing deeply. He shuts his eyes and inhales again, nostrils flaring. “This place smells fantastic. Delicious.”

Thor can’t disagree. There’s no way he can hope to begin to identify all the components, but in combination they are indeed _delicious._ “It’s nice,” he agrees, finally, which doesn’t even start to do the place justice. “Very nice.”

Loki flops face-up on the bed. He has to make an odd little hop to manage it – the bedframe is high, with a stepped stool alongside – and Thor can’t help laughing. Loki makes the equivalent of a snow angel in the purple and gold patterned bedding. “And the bed is _so_ comfortable. Mm. You go help the two of them get married. I’ll just be lying here.”

“No, you have to appear in person to sign,” Thor reminds his brother gently, still laughing.

Loki’s eyes are closed again, a big smile lighting up his familiar, beautiful, expressive face.

Thor is abruptly certain it’s his favorite face in the entire world, and almost says so. He groans internally… something about being here to watch his best friends get married is making him hopelessly sappy.

“So, get a notary,” Loki suggests brightly. “I’ll sign here in this wonderful bed and your notary will make it official.” He rolls over, sinking further into the bedding until just his rump sticks up into view. “Seriously, I may never leave this bed again.”

~

The Bed & Breakfast is themed, with each of its guestrooms – there are six, according to both the website and the brochures - decorated differently. The one Thor chose for Sif and Steve features Renaissance Europe; it’s an older time period than the one Steve normally studies, for sure, but both rooms (it’s a suite) are full of gorgeous art and sturdy antiques. The space is upbeat and cheerful without being overwhelming.

By contrast, the room he chose for himself and Loki goes all out: It harkens back to the spice trade, à la mode de _Arabian Nights_. It’s lush and exotic and everything his brother loves. Everything he loves _about_ his brother, now that he thinks about it. The room isn’t a suite, but it’s amply spacious; there’s a sitting area at the far end, closer to the door, and a pillow-filled window seat wraps three sides of a small tower.

Thor walks across the room and pokes his head into their bathroom. He actually gasps as he steps over the threshold. The bath is gorgeous, just like the rest of the room, and huge – it sports both a whirlpool tub almost big enough to swim in and a separate shower – with plush-looking dark towels and burnished golden votive holders everywhere. Even without the candles lit, the place sparkles. The tile work is black; everything else is dark red, royal blue, rich purple or deep, dark green. The towel racks and benches gleam with coat after coat of black lacquer. The mirrors are framed with gilded faux bamboo.

All told, it’s a room fit for royalty. Thor would almost feel guilty for taking it himself, except he knows how completely over-the-top it would be from Sif’s comparatively down-to-earth perspective.

Not so his brother. “Oh, wow,” Loki says quietly from behind Thor’s shoulder. His voice is filled with what sounds suspiciously like awe. “This is gorgeous. I take back what I said about spending the rest of my life in the bed. I can definitely make room in my schedule to bathe, too.”

“I hope so,” Thor tells his brother, nodding towards the whirlpool bath, “because this tub would be terribly lonely without you.”

Loki ducks under Thor’s arm and looks around. “Holy shit,” he exclaims. “Oh yes, I will definitely be making time for that. And this,” he adds, reaching for an ornate bottle of golden oil. He unstoppers it and waves it under Thor’s nose; it smells good; like nutmeg, and almonds.

“Somehow I’m not thinking you mean _for a backrub_ ,” Thor half-teases. He turns to catch a glimpse of his own flushing face in the gold-framed mirror over the _his and his_ basins. Even now this sort of conversation still manages to embarrass him thoroughly.

“Well, we _could_ use it for that,” Loki admits, replacing the stopper and carefully setting the bottle back on the platform surrounding the tub. “But it seems like a bit of a waste, don’t you think?”

Thor’s mortified to admit it, but he can’t disagree. It kind of does seem like a waste, actually. He clears his throat. “Before we, um, get too comfortable in here, let’s go exploring. And, you know, say hi to the happy couple.” They’d driven here separately, the two of them in his car and Sif and Steve in Sif’s, because they’re going in opposite directions at the end of the weekend. Sif had texted him a few minutes ago that she and Steve were in their room - _love it_ , she’d added – and getting settled.

While Loki might well use that language euphemistically, _getting settled_ coming from Sif is likely to mean exactly what it says: unpacking, reading the menu, that sort of thing. And the _stop by and say hello_ she’d closed with, Thor knows they can’t ignore.

Well, they _can_ , but they shouldn’t. Today and tomorrow are about Sif and Steve and friendship. After that (and probably in between it, because Steve is not a night owl and Thor knows there’s no way he and his brother are going to be able to resist that tub indefinitely) it can be about Thor and Loki.

He thinks about the rings, in a black velvet pouch carefully hidden in the back of the safe that’s tucked away in their closet. _Later_.

“Oh, I suppose. If we _have_ to,” Loki whines. “Kidding, kidding,” he adds as Thor shoots him a look. “I know why we’re here, I promise. But if this is what _vacation_ is like, I think we need to take more of them.” He backs out from under Thor’s arm and into the room proper, kissing Thor’s side in the process. “Yes, let’s go exploring.” He winks as Thor turns to face him. “We can fuck later.”

~

The public spaces, including the dining room – _B &B_ is kind of a misnomer, in this case, as it’s really an inn with a full restaurant that serves dinner as well – are loosely _Medieval Castle._ Not in the giant monarchy sense; more like Thor imagines you’d see in a small but profitable agricultural fiefdom. It’s nice, though, dark and romantic and peaceful. “It looks like it should have dungeons,” Loki intones as they each grab a chocolate chunk cookie.

It does. Thor knows he must be blushing again anyway.

~

“Thank you guys,” Sif positively gushes as she whips open her door. “Seriously. This place is amazing. Steve,” she calls over her shoulder, “Thor and Loki are here.”

Thor braces for an eyeful – if this was their suite, Loki would stalk up behind him wearing only a towel – but Steve comes out of the bedroom dressed and unruffled with a handful of t-shirts. “Hey,” he says, smiling. “I was just putting a few things away. Come in, please.” He slings an arm around Sif’s waist. “I can finish up later.”

“They have a _sofa_ ,” Loki tells Thor as he invites himself to bounce on it and then sprawls end-to-end. “We don’t have a sofa.”

“That’s because they’re the guests of honor,” Thor points out. Privately, between the bed and that tub and the gigantic walled-in shower, he doubts they’ll have any time to miss it. Plus, they have that nest of a tower, and they’ll probably-… “Now sit up and behave,” he tells his brother, not particularly sharply. It’s mostly to drag his own mind back out of the gutter anyway.

“Thor,” Sif chastises, but Loki just laughs.

“It’s fine,” he tells her as he sits up and scoots over, all the while smiling at Thor. “He’s right, and he’s teasing. We’re good.” He pats the cushion next to him. “Now come sit down beside me and tell me how nervous you are. I need something to comfort.”

She takes a seat and leans back, arms across the top of the sofa. “Surprisingly, I’m not,” she says. “I’m looking forward to dinner with you guys, and I think I’m all set for tomorrow.” She smiles up at Steve, who is waiting politely for Thor to sit down. “Are you nervous, honey?”

Steve sighs. “I’ll feel better when the judge gets here” – she’s driving up in the morning, because she had a commitment today; Thor and Loki are putting her up in a cute little Victorian room here tomorrow – “but, no, I don’t think I’m nervous the way you mean, Loki.”

Loki gives Sif’s knee a squeeze. She yelps. “Good for you. I know I would be. Not that I’ll ever get married,” he adds, looking sad and a little petulant. More like he’s the one someone should be comforting.

Sif puts her arm around his shoulder and loudly kisses his hair. “There’s a time when I wouldn’t ever have imagined myself saying this, but: you don’t need to, baby. You have Thor.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until people start to get nervous.

"I feel like we should be eating wild boar," Sif observes as she looks around the dining room. This is her first foray into this section of the B&B, the part that calls to mind castles. And, yes, _dungeons_. "Or perhaps gnawing the haunch of some enormous stag." She inspects her latest forkful of mushroom risotto (which she’s let both Thor and Loki sample, since they’re more or less eating _family style_ to start with; it’s perfectly-cooked, by turns delicate and earthy). "Not to imply that this isn't delicious," she clarifies, "because it is. In fact, it’s sublime."

In honor of the occasion they are each nursing the world's tiniest glass of champagne. It, too, is sublime. Thor is taking great pains to pace himself. He started the meal off by keeping a watchful eye on Loki, after what happened not nearly long enough ago, but his brother seems equally content to savor the pale gold liquid sip after tiny sip.

Loki rolls his champagne around in his mouth like a pro. He swallows, then smiles sweetly at Sif. "Thank you for letting us do this for you," he tells her, all earnest and serious. And then he can't help himself, apparently: "Because I sure the fuck am enjoying it." It’s fine, even in this fancy place… his voice is low, just above a whisper; nothing that's going to carry far enough to reach the other diners.

Of whom there are several, Thor can’t help but notice. He takes his own slow look around, making sure not to linger anywhere long enough to be caught staring. The restaurant is open to the public at dinner, by reservation only according to the signage. It's intimate and exclusive. Still, it's clearly popular, and busy enough they can talk and laugh without feeling awkward.

_Which is a good thing_ , Thor thinks as Sif lets her head drop back. Her whole body shakes, she's laughing so hard. "Loki, Loki," she says at some length as she dabs at her eyes with her napkin. "As long as you're happy, _evvv_ rybody's happy."

Loki raises his glass in toast. "To happiness," he says. This time he really does look serious.

Steve and Sif raise their glasses in unison. "To friends," Sif says.

"Hear, hear," Steve agrees.

Thor brings his own glass up to meet the rest. "To love." They all clink, very gently. Thor takes another tiny, tiny sip.

Loki takes a small sip of his own and smiles. "It’s the boar that should be out there toasting our vegetarian bride," he suggests. "The mushrooms and pumpkins, though?" He pops in a small bite of smoky roast pumpkin ravioli. "Not so lucky."

~

By the time they've worked through the whole prix fixe meal and are just polishing off the last forkfuls of dessert, it’s getting quite late and Steve is yawning openly. Even Loki's eyelids look a bit heavy. "Anything on the agenda between now and breakfast," Thor asks Sif, mostly to keep from yawning right along with the rest of them.

"Sleep," she exclaims. "You? Oh, wait, don't tell me. And I don't want to _hear_ any of it, either."

Loki winks broadly. He looks much less sleepy all of a sudden. "Not a problem,” he assures her. “I think the water will muffle the noise."

Sif elbows him, but she's grinning herself. There's clearly nothing to it beyond play. That, and it’s not Thor’s problem anyway. He knows he needs to stop trying to fight all of his brother’s battles.

~

Back in the room, Thor feels just this side of stuporous. "Ugh," he tells Loki, barely stifling yet another yawn. "If we try to do it in the tub I think I'll drown."

His brother stretches. He’s tall enough that his slender fingers almost brush the celling.

Thor sees a quick flash of pale skin and dark hair; Loki’s shirt pulls up at the same time his pants ride dangerously low. Thor clears his throat. "Although," he admits - out of nowhere his voice is rough... husky - "I could perhaps be persuaded to engage in some kind of land-based sport instead."

"How about we _do_ start with a backrub after all," Loki suggests. He pads into the bathroom and comes back with an armload bath sheets- and oil. "If you sleep; you sleep. It'll be good for both of us," he purrs as Thor hesitates. "Please?"

~

Thor does fall asleep in the end... but not after until long after Loki has kneaded every last bit of tension from shoulders and back, thighs and buttocks.

Not until his brother has worked him thoroughly open, carefully and sweetly, with an immeasurable degree of patience Thor had no idea Loki possessed.

Not, truth be told, until after his brother has made the most tender love to him anyone has, ever, and then has cleaned them both up and gently toweled every last drop of oil off Thor's limp, boneless body.

In the end, it’s not until Loki has tucked him into the impossibly lush bedding - and slipped silently in behind him to curl against his back like a purring cat - that Thor finally lets sleep drag him under.

~

“Try not to walk like that,” his brother teases the next morning as Thor makes his way – stiff and a little sore – around the room. “Not unless you want everyone to know. And don’t sit down to breakfast like you have something up your ass, either.”

“When I want your advice, I’ll ask for it,” he growls as Loki – evidently none the worse for wear, probably in large part thanks to how slowly and smoothly the evening’s _activities_ had unfolded – waltzes past him and into the shower. Thor’s laughing, though, and from the way his brother grins on the way by Loki knows it.

~

“Thank you for being quiet and letting us sleep,” Sif says brightly as they meet on the veranda for brunch. Thor pulls Loki’s chair out and holds it like a gentleman, half to be nice and half to distract everyone – meaning the soon-to-be-newlyweds – from his own gingerly landing.

“It was our pleasure, I assure you,” Loki tells her. “Right, Thor?”

Thor grins. “I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.”

Loki snorts.

They all do.

“Okay, _now_ I’m getting nervous,” Steve announces as the server brings them fruit and muesli.

SIf turns and gives him a quick squeeze. “Me too.”

In three or four hours it will all be over. Thor takes a gulp of fresh-squeezed orange juice. “I won’t say _don’t be_ ,” he offers, “because how could you not? But in a few hours we’ll be sitting down to dinner again and nothing will have changed.”

“Nothing and everything,” Loki mutters.

Steve nods. “Exactly.”

“You’ll be old married people,” Thor interjects, trying to lighten the mood. Everyone laughs, but it seems- forced. He doesn’t really feel any better.

Sif and Steve are both hopelessly fidgety, and that only serves to make his brother fidgety too. By the time everyone has made at least small inroads into breakfast, Thor can hardly wait to get back upstairs.

“Do you think we’ll all be able to stay friends,” Loki worries as they close the door of their room behind them.

Nervous or not, Thor’s sure about that one. “Yeah,” he says firmly, “I do.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sif and Steve tie the knot.

"Wow," Loki says as he surveys the scenery. "This is beautiful. We outdid ourselves, brother."

It _is_ beautiful. The grounds behind the B &B are spectacular, in a pleasingly forested way, and they’re just far enough into the real heart of spring that things are starting to green up nicely. If he lets his mind wander even slightly, Thor can picture the boar they hadn't eaten last night at dinner coming barreling up out of the woods.

Loki is looking pretty darned good as well, in a spring-weight wool sport coat and sharply-tailored slacks. The sons of Odin clean up surprisingly well, Thor knows, when they need to. His own (similar, but nicely contrasting; they have enough class not to go out in public _looking like twinsies_ ) outfit makes him think - not particularly fondly - of _country club lunches_ from back in his law days.

His brother dressed just-a-little-casually up and looking like an English Lit professor from a top-drawer university, though? Now _that's_ a pretty sight. And a rare one, so much so that Thor is determined to enjoy it while he can. 

Speaking of rare sights too, Loki's hair is caught up in a low, artfully messy bun that rests just above the collar. It gleams in the sunlight, all rich dark highlights where it's normally just deep black, and Thor finds himself itching to shake the elastic loose and run his hands through it.

He doesn't. They've promised themselves they'll look good for Sif and Steve. Civilized. He can manhandle that mane of his brother's another time. Like, between the ceremony and dinner.

"Look!" He nudges Loki and points off into the distance where Steve (in a sharp-looking navy suit) and Sif (in a dress after all, a gold one-shouldered sheath that looks great on her and wouldn't look half-bad on Loki) are posing for pictures. Steve has his arm slung around her waist; she's laughing, her own hair - which is up in a ponytail so often Thor sometimes forgets it's there at all - streaming out behind her.

"They look so happy," Loki says. His voice is a little rough. "I love them to pieces." He clears his throat, delicately, into the crook of one elbow - he's on his best behavior too. "But I have to admit it; I'm jealous. Don't tell them," he hurries to add. "Not today."

Thor takes Loki's arm and steers his brother gently around to face him. "I won't. And I love you," he reminds. "More than anything." He kisses Loki full on the mouth. Screw whoever might be watching. His hands come up of their own volition to frame his brother's sharp face, and-.

"Mr. Odinson?"

They both jump like crazy. Thor can feel his face heating. "Hi," he says. The woman is short and slender, in a dark, conservative suit. "You must be here to officiate," he observes, because he’s an idiot.

"That's me," she agrees, pleasantly enough. She's got a small overnight bag in one hand and a well-used leather folio in the other. "What a great spot! I've never been out here."

Thor nods and Loki hums. He's still feeling off-balance. "Should I round them up for you," he offers, gesturing towards where Sit and Steve are still- frolicking sums it up nicely. "They're just finishing up their pictures."

"No no," she says, laughing. "It's just us; there's no need to hurry. That’s the beauty of doing it your own way, is it not?"

It is, Thor supposes. He nods. "In that case," he suggests as he finally, belatedly remembers his manners, "please, let my bring your bag up to your room."

~

When he comes back outside a few minutes later, everyone – the officiant, the happy couple, his brother, two nice older ladies out enjoying the sunshine - is up on the terrace chatting. There's fresh lemonade. And soft music, courtesy of a sharply-dressed young string quartet Thor doesn't remember hiring. He raised his eyebrows at Loki, who smiles shyly.

"One of the guys at the shelter went to school out here," his brother leans in to whisper in his ear. "He knows people.” Loki’s lips are warm and soft; Thor shivers.

“They’re good,” he whispers back. “Thank you.”

~

The ceremony itself is longer than he expected, considering how it’s not the least bit _churchy_. Thor zones out somewhere in the middle of a lengthy round of promising and is consequently startled when Loki stands. His brother reads – at least, he clutches the paper in one hand; the performance itself is clearly from memory - a lovely poem about caring Thor has never heard before.

"That was really nice," he whispers to Loki as his brother takes a seat. "Who's it by?"

Loki ducks his head. His cheeks are pink. "Me."

"Seriously," Thor says, a little louder than he means to. He had no idea Loki- well, wrote beautiful things. They’ll have to talk more about it sometime.

"Shh," his brother chastises him sternly. "Pay attention."

He does, for the rest. Sif is radiant in her pretty dress in the sun. And when it’s over and done, and Steve kisses the bride, Thor finds himself crying.

~

They host cocktails (which they’re good about, and pass on… and it isn’t even difficult, because Sif and Steve are sticking with lemonade themselves) and hors d’oeuvres (which they – oops? – devour) for the few random guests who happen to be around on such a nice Saturday afternoon. And the officiant, of course, and the four college kids (all of whom assure Thor they’re legal). It’s a nice little crowd; just enough milling around and laughing to make the place feel festive, but no pressure. No expectations.

“I’m really glad we went this route,” Sif tells him quietly while Steve is off fetching someone another round. “Otherwise, right about now, we’d all be stuck doing the chicken dance.”

Loki _giggles_. “We still could, you know,” he teases, bringing his thumbs up to his armpits and waggling his eyebrows.

“Don’t. You. _Dare_ ,” Sif commands, shaking her finger in his face. “I mean it. And no hokey-fucking-pokey either.”

Thor comes up from behind and sneaks both arms around his brother. “No picking on the bride,” he admonishes, but she’s already smiling.

~

“I used to work in the District Attorney’s office,” Thor tells the officiant. “Overall, I can’t say that I miss it.” He really doesn’t think he does, even if you separate out the Odin stuff. Which is, of course, pretty much impossible to do anyway. “It gave me lots of good experience, sure, but I’m glad to have it behind me.”

She nods. “I can see how that might be the case. It’s certainly not what I would have chosen.”

It’s not what he would have chosen, either.

~

Afternoon blends smoothly into early evening. Everyone is having such fun that they – the four of them, and Thor and Loki specifically - abandon their original plan (which was to take a nap break, just to fill the time between the ceremony and dinner) in favor of watching the sun set from the wide stone patio that spans the back of the building.

They’re halfway through dinner – tucked into a little private table that barely seats four, in the base of the same tower that forms part of their guestroom – before Thor has enough time to think.

To realize that _it’s all done with;_ after breakfast tomorrow Sif and Steve will be off to spend a few days alone together.

While he proposes- what, exactly? Not marriage; he hasn’t got that to give. It wouldn’t be fair. A lifetime together? _Shit_. His palms are sweaty. He adjusts his collar and fidgets miserably.

Loki leans in. “You okay,” he asks. He looks worried.

Thor catches his brother’s hand and kisses it lightly. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s just- emotional day, no?”

Sif catches his eye and winks. “Stop it, you two. I’m the one who’s supposed to be whining.”

“Like you ever whine,” Loki teases her. “Honestly, Steve, you snagged yourself a good one.” He kisses Thor’s cheek. “Not like poor Thor here, saddled with me.”

“Oh, I think he made a good choice too,” Steve says. He stretches, grabbing for a pillow that makes a break for it. “Thanks, guys,” he adds. “For all of it. This is- everything about it has been just amazing.”

Thor nods. He’s grateful for something to take his mind off- off _doing it wrong_ tomorrow. Or, worse yet, accidentally giving the surprise away today. “I’m glad you liked it.” He grins. “Welcome to the family.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the moment everyone has been waiting for. As requested, we get it from Thor's POV first.
> 
> ~
> 
> This will most likely be the end of Babes, at least for now. I will cover the same last scene (we have to, right?) in the March of the Damned, but then - after that - I think we will leave these characters to live their own lives. Yes, I could go on and on, but it's already gotten a bit ridiculous. This is a good leaving off point; things are hopeful and so, so much improved, but we don't really know what will happen. Just like life, no?
> 
> A huge and heartfelt _THANK YOU_ to everyone who is getting off the bus after this bit of the journey; to the rest of you, I'll see you at the end of the March of the Damned.
> 
> /cries

The morning _sparkles_. Last night’s weather had been cold and crystal-clear; even now with the sun up Thor can see his breath as he stands on the deck out behind the B &B. It's far too chilly to eat outside. Which is fine, really. One last meal together in the dining room, with its big fireplace and its torches, will close out the weekend on a good note.

Sif and Steve are loading their car - they're heading off on their honeymoon, which will mostly consist of doing a little casual sightseeing together while not working and not hanging out with anyone else. yes, Thor's envious... right after breakfast together - and will be back inside any minute now.

Loki is just plain old slow; his brother's ass was clearly dragging this morning, likely due at least in part to how few hours ago they'd put the bed - and the shower, and the tub, and at least one wall - to good use. At the time sex had been much more interesting than _sleeping_. Now, they’re paying for their questionable judgment.

It's probably better this way. Thor, with a ring in his pocket and panic everywhere else, is grateful for a little alone time. Not that he particularly wants the questionable pleasure of his own company; it simply means that many fewer seconds he has to keep his big secret... _secret_.

He very much wants Sif and Steve to usher in their new life together talking about something that isn't _Thor and Loki_ , just this once. That, and if his brother says _no_ the newlyweds might not need to know about it _ever_.

Yeah, Sif won't let him get away with silence in the long run. Still, he can buy himself time. Time to talk Loki into changing tunes.

Time to enter into witness protection.

This is decidedly _not_ the kind of misery that loves company, Thor knows. It would love shots of tequila, actually, except for how he isn’t that person anymore.

~

"Hi, sleepyhead," he tells his brother as he pulls Loki – still dazed and a bit bedraggled – in close for a long, warm hug. "We got you some cocoa."

Sif pats the seat next to her as Loki stands by the table and clings to the heavy mug with both hands. "Come sit with me," she offers. "We can share waffles."

Thor watches as his brother slides into the waiting chair and slumps elbows-first onto the table. Loki is half-lost in a gigantic, impossibly soft charcoal grey sweater. All that’s sticking out is the top half of his face and the tips of his fingers.

He's going to love that sweater or hate it for the rest of his life, Thor knows. They both will.

~

"Eggs, sunny side up," Steve tells the smiling waiter. "With toast. Do you have any of that fantastic seven-grain bread this morning?"

They do. They have baked overnight french toast with challah, too. Thor would be sure he'd died and gone to wherever the good little boys go, except he couldn't possibly be this nervous there. That, and he’s no good little boy by any stretch of the imagination. _Focus_ , he reminds himself. _Easy breakfast and honeymoon questions_.

He can do this, he can.

Loki and Sif, true to form, order belgian waffles; blueberry with blueberry syrup for his brother, plain with strawberries and nut butter for her. They trade sips of cocoa – Sif’s has almond and vanilla, Loki’s smells strongly of cinnamon – and sweet little smiles. 

Thor privately kicks himself for all the times he's found himself jealous of their gentle, easy camaraderie.

Loki needs good friends without agendas, and Thor is no longer too stubborn to admit _he_ needs an army to keep his brother safe and happy.

He raises his glass of fresh-squeezed juice - it's orange with something else, maybe tangerine? - and clears his throat. "To the kind of family we make for ourselves," he toasts.

They all clink mugs and glasses to a quiet chorus of _hear, hear_.

~

The two of them stand at the top of the long drive about an hour later, Loki's hand hooked around Thor's waist and Thor's own arm draped across his brother's shoulders. With their free hands they wave goodbye until Sif's car disappears from view.

They manage not to cry.

The air is still crisp, but they're both in sweaters and chunky boots. "We don't have to check out until after lunch," Thor tells Loki. "No one's coming into our room tonight, so the manager said we could stick around a few more hours if we wanted." He takes a big, slow, silent breath and lets it out. "Do you want to take a walk," he asks.

His brother nods and hums.

~

"I'm going to miss this place," Loki admits as they amble down the hill towards the edge of the woods, chilly fingers laced into Thor's warm ones. The grass beneath their feet slowly gives way to earth and stone and leaves. "Maybe we can talk Siffy and Steve into coming back here next year. To celebrate, I mean," he clarifies. "Do you think they would like that?" Loki’s voice sounds small… small and sad.

"They might," Thor tells him, trying to sound bright and cheerful. "I'm pretty sure they had a good time."

"Mm," Loki says. "I know I did." He sighs and kicks at a pinecone. "Do you think it will be nice for them now, knowing they're- permanent?" He looks over at Thor, his forehead furrowed, and just like that Thor knows it's _now or never_.

He stops, tugging his brother's hand and spinning Loki around to face him. "I think so," he says softly. "Hey, do you want to find out?"

Loki blinks. His face is briefly a whirl of emotions, and then it’s completely, resolutely blank. "Do I what?"

Thor is determined not to babble like an ass this time. He’s done the whole idiot thing more than enough already. “Do you want to find out,” he repeats, speaking carefully and plainly, “if it’s nice to be permanent?” He digs his free hand into his pocket. “Because if you do,” he adds, sinking a little clumsily down onto one knee in the dirt, “I have something for you.”

Loki goes instantly, rigidly still. He blinks again, rapidly, over and over. Finally, he shudders. “What are you saying,” he rasps. “Are you- do you- _Thor_ ,” he stammers, “what the fuck is going on?”

They’re going to laugh about that someday. Thor knows they will. Right now, though, his heart is hammering so hard and fast that it feels like it’s going to leap right out of his chest. He holds up the ring between thumb and middle finger and tries once more to smile. “I know we can’t get married but-…” he starts, taking a deep breath and then clearing his throat. Again. “Loki,” he tries once more, determined to get it out this time. “Will you be my life partner?”

Time practically stops. Thor watches Loki’s eyelashes flutter in slow, slow motion. Watches as a single tear trails down his brother’s face, as Loki’s mouth opens into a round, pink _O_.

“This is for real,” Loki asks, voice breaking. “You mean it? Because if this is your idea of a joke I will-.”

Thor squeezes his brother’s fingers. He’s so afraid. “Yes,” he says, firmly, before his brother can continue. “As much as anything I’ve ever said,” _and more_ , he continues silently, worried that he’s said too much already.

“Then yes,” Loki says. He splays out his fingers and lets Thor put the ring _where it belongs_. The thing fits perfectly.

And then they’re wrapped tightly in one another’s arms, kissing and sobbing and laughing all at the same time.

“You’re going to be- so sorry,” Loki chokes out.

Thor pulls his brother closer still, so close they could almost be one person. “No,” he says, and his voice is steady now. “No, brother, I don’t think so.”


End file.
